Ninth Day of Christmas - The Solstice Ball, Part 1
by Elsyra
Summary: Ninth story in the Twelve Days of Christmas series. With their friends' big day around the corner, the ladies of the Inquisition must learn to dance! One problem: most of them are more accustomed to fighting rather than waltzing. Can the Lady Ambassador tame this motley crew in time? Two-shot. TrevelyanQuiz/Cullen, Dorian/OC, Sera/Dagna #Holiday Cheer #YuleBall #FriendshipisMagic


A/N: Happy 2019, ya'all!

This is the **ninth** fic in my Twelve Days of Christmas jamboree. This ficlet is two-shot followed by the tenth part of this series. If you choose to read other parts of this series, keep in mind that none of them technically need to be read in order _with the exception of_ these two fics.

IMPORTANT NOTES

This story is part of a Christmas present for AuroraBorealia, my fabulous bestie and beta reader! It is part of a crazy headcanon that features her Trevelyan Inquisitor, Rowan, my Trevelyan Inquisitor Azur (as Rowan's cousin), a cute and tiny OC named Margot, and Neville Longbottom (he'll show up in part two).

If you are interested in knowing how on earth (or Thedas) this all connects, I will likely be publishing two explanatory fics sometime soon. If not, this is a highly-tailored fic, so read at your own risk (of extreme confusion).

Tags: 12 Days of Christmas, Ladies Dancing, Trevelyan/Cullen, Dorian/OC, Sera/Dagna.

Enjoy, friends!

* * *

 _On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..._

 _Nine ladies dancing_

 _Eight maids a'milking_

 _Seven swans a'swimming_

 _Six geese a'laying_

 _Five golden rings..._

 _Four colly birds,_

 _Three French hens_

 _Two turtle doves_

 _And a partridge in a pear tree_

Colorful columns of light filtered through the stained glass windows of Skyhold's main hall, casting a beautiful, kaleidoscopic rainbow of shapes onto the stone floor. The air inside shifted from its usual stillness, a welcome departure from all the gloom and despair wrought upon Thedas in the last few months.

Today, the entire Inquisition was abuzz with excitement. Two of their very own were to be wed!

Dorian Pavus, the infamously dramatic Tevinter mage had fallen almost instantly for Inquisitor Trevelyan's shy cousin, Azur. The two made a lovely pair, both in terms of their bond and their looks.

Most importantly, they inspired in their comrades a sense of hope, for if two mages surrounded by a world full of hate managed to grasp this moment of happiness, then anyone could do it.

Josephine Montilyet, the Inquisition's Ambassador-and therefore chief of all things formal-naturally assumed the role of wedding planner. Fortunately, the gender of both grooms did not pose the largest problem, since Fereldens tended to accept or tolerate same-sex relationships far more readily than Tevinters. Both men, however, were mages, and Dorian was a _foreign_ mage. Imagine that.

Well, if the Inquisition was going to make a statement, then by Andraste's grace they were going to do it right!

Both Dorian and Azur agreed to Josephine's suggestion of holding their reception in the winter, perched against the gorgeous backdrop of Skyhold's picturesque snow-covered towers. This way, everyone would celebrate the marriage and the solstice at the same time.

Unfortunately, as Vivienne was quick to point out, their wedding would practically be an international ball. A ball meant dancing, and _dancing_ , for many members of the Inquisition, spelled imminent catastrophe.

That was how nine of the Inquisition's leading ladies found themselves corralled into the main hall in the space between the dining area and the Inquisitor's Judgement Chair.

Rowan glanced at the offending throne and shuddered. She was very glad not to have to sit in judgement for a while. To kill, maim, jail, or otherwise harm a criminal, or to _not_ kill, maim, jail, or otherwise harm? So much pressure on these decisions.

Had she her own way, Rowan would have much preferred to spend today curled up in Cullen's loft with a nice adventure novel. But at least Josie's mandatory dance lessons provided a break, if nothing else, from her extremely stressful role as leader of the Inquisition.

The Montilyet sister in question was now instructing everyone to shift the long dining tables down and make room for the day's activities. A certain blonde elf complied, but she made a show of grumbling and bumping other people as she did so. Josephine fixed Sera with warning glare. Earlier this morning she had tried to play the "you can't make me" card, at which point Josephine was forced to show her hand: If the rambunctious elf refused to participate, never again would she read her precious quarterly subscriptions to _The Randy Dowager._

A great deal of sulking followed.

Next, Josephine decided to have each of her "students" copy Vivienne's simple tutorial routine in order to determine just _how_ much they needed to cover today.

They didn't even make it to the end. A few bars from the end, Josie cut them off and gave each woman a biting assessment of her dancing skills.

Leliana terrified her dance partners, while Sera offended them (very much on purpose). That, and she was the only one who had never even heard of Vivienne's dance. Dagna stared into space and hummed too much, while Lace turned red and couldn't look anywhere but the floor. Rowan tripped over her own feet half the time, and Cassandra's dance moves were about as stiff as petrified wood.

Indeed, they had their work cut out for them. Josephine and Vivienne enlisted the aid of their young friend Margot-a recent addition to the Inquisition's collection of mages-in order to tackle the precarious task of training their friends to dance in time for the ball.

Rowan grimaced as she forced her muscles into one of Vivienne's particularly grueling stretches. She loved Josie and Viv, she really did, but it was hard not to wish she were learning with Cullen instead. Despite her noble upbringing and the requisite formal training of yesteryear, Rowan had never quite picked up the flow of dance.

She remembered some moves and basic routines well enough, yet none of them felt completely natural. But if she danced with Cullen, she would feel more at ease, more relaxed. Hugging Cullen was like taking a warm, elderflower-scented bubble bath.

"Inquisitor, you must concentrate," Josie clucked.

"Oh. Sorry."

At that point, Vivienne stopped the entire group again. "They'll never learn like this, darling, it's simply impossible."

"Why don't we put them in pairs?" Margot piped up. "That's just how they'll be dancing at the ball. And each of us can help more people at once that way."

"Clever girl," Vivienne remarked. "I say, Inquisitor, job well-done snatching up this delightful young lady. At last, another refined creature among our ranks."

Margot preened, glad to have gained the respect of such a powerful fellow mage. "Thank you, Miss Vivienne!"

Vivienne and Josie split their pupils into pairs and Rowan had gotten Lace. They smiled and waved to each other from across the room before meeting up in the middle.

"Sorry," Lace warned in advance. "I'm sure it'll be awkward for you, dancing with someone my height." She glanced around to check if the coast was Josie-free. "I think they did this on purpose."

Rowan laughed. "Don't be silly. Sure, they could have paired you with Dagna, but then you wouldn't be practicing for the real thing, when all the tall men ask you to dance." They both snuck a glance at Dagna, who had been partnered with Sera, and grinned. "I think someone's finally having a good time of it."

Soon, Margot came to their assistance and started them on a waltz. "Don't worry-Josephine assigned me to you two. That means you probably did the least horrible in the practice round."

Well, _that_ was reassuring.

"Miss Scout, try to keep your feet a little wider apart; that should help with the height difference."

Rowan's brow furrowed. How odd. Why would Margot call someone by their job title? She assumed it was a fluke until the girl did it again.

"Why do you keep calling her 'Scout'?" she asked. Lace appeared just as perplexed.

Margot's big blue eyes blinked up at them both. "What? That's her name, isn't it?"

Lace laughed. "You would think, wouldn't you?"

Clapping both hands over her mouth, Margot turned red. "I'm so sorry! It's just, when Mister Varric introduced us, he said, 'this is Harding, Scout Harding,' so I thought…"

"That's okay!" the dwarvish woman assured her. "My name is actually Lace, by the way. But you can still call me Scout, if you like. Goodness knows I respond to it by now."

Margot was just about to respond when twin shrieks diverted their attention.

Apparently, Leliana and Cassandra had become so fed up with the lesson that they tried to outdance Vivienne and Josephine, breaking an oil lamp and two candlesticks in the mad shuffle.

Having been promoted to the position of Only Mature Adult in the Room, Margot gave a harried sigh. Rowan patted her shoulder comfortingly.

She hoped, for Dorian and Azur's sake, that the boys wouldn't be this crazy. Otherwise, they were in for a complete nightmare tomorrow...

* * *

More to come in Part 2!

Feel free to spread some holiday cheer in the comments if you like. Any and all flames will fuel the fire by which my characters snuggle with their significant others (and friends!).

Happy (almost) New Year!


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